SUBEDAR MAJOR LUMBAR'S GURKHA CHICKEN

The Eternal Emperor said, "Pour us a couple of shots, Captain, while I get dinner underway."

"Scotch or Stregg, Your Majesty?" Sten asked, holding up a bottle of each for consideration.

The Emperor shrugged. "Better bring them both," he said, moving into his kitchen. "We'll start with Scotch then move onto Bhor territory by and by."

Sten followed, decanted the Scotch and filled a couple of shot glasses with the amber liquid that the Emperor had spent years duplicating, going by centuries-old memories alone.

As the Emperor started setting up, Sten glanced around the kitchen. He'd been here before - most notably for a drunken supper of Angelo Stew. But he'd never cease to marvel at the place. It was many times larger than most Prime World kitchens, where cooking was done by bots and the food never seen by a living being until it appeared on the table.

There were some modern features - hidden cabinets and environmental food storage boxes operated by finger touch. It also was kept absolutely bacteria free and featured a state of the art waste disposal system that the Emperor rarely used. Mostly he either swept what Sten would have considered waste into containers and returned them to storage, or dumped them into stock pots that simmered 24 E-hours a day, filling the area with the most tantalizing aromas.

The most imposing feature of the room was a huge chopping block made of rare hardwood called oak. In the center of the block was an old fashioned stainless steel sink. Set a little bit lower than the chopping block, it was flushed by a constant spray of water, flushing away debris as the Emperor sliced and diced.

Directly behind the Emperor was an enormous black cast iron and gleaming steel cooking range. It featured an oven whose walls were many  centimeters thick, a single cast grill, half a dozen professional chef size burners, and two open, wood-and-coal-burning grills. From the slight smell it gave off, the stove obviously operated by some kind of natural gas.

Sten also knew that there were several microwave ovens stashed in the hidden cabinets, which the Emperor used for such things as steamed vegetables - except he steamed them in light virgin olive oil, instead of water. "With just a dash or three of garlic powder," he informed Sten, "and maybe a little cayenne if it calls for it."

"If you ever want a really quick meal," he'd advised Sten on one occasion, "dump a mess of brussel sprouts (whatever they were) into a bowl, hit them with a little olive oil, garlic powder and cayenne and zap them for four minutes. Serve them over rice cooked with chicken broth." He patted his muscular belly. "Yum. A dish fit for - well, me!"

"I like to get everything laid out before I start cooking," the Emperor said, opening the fresher and ducking his head inside.

He started tossing things in a large steel bowl that he held in one hand, muttering the name of each ingredient as he did so:

"Let's see… A nice onion… there you go. Ginger, already peeled. Garlic, ditto. Lots and lots of peeled garlic. Chiles - three ought to do. No, want it extra spicy, make it four. Chicken, previously skinned, boned and cubed by yours truly."

The Emperor emerged, and dumped everything on the butcher block. Then he rustled through cupboards for the other ingredients.

"Cinnamon… cinnamon… where the clot is the cinnamon? Okay, there you are you little bugger. Now tumeric. Salt for the boiling water… sunflower oil… sunflower oil… where's the clottin' - There you go. Sunflower oil. And Bob's your uncle."

Sten wanted to ask who the clot Bob was and whose uncle he might be, but wisely kept his trap shut and poured more scotch. The Emperor had something on his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have invited Sten into his chambers for a private supper.

The Emperor looked like he was about to say something then stopped. Brow wrinkled. Then it cleared.

"Flour," he said. "Almost forgot the garam flour." As he reached into the cupboard for the item he said, "In case you're wondering, garam flour is flour made from ground chickpeas."

Sten nodded understanding, even though he didn't have the faintest idea what a chickpea was - ground, or otherwise.

"If you're wondering what's on my mind, Captain," the Eternal Emperor said, "it's as simple - and at the same time, complex - as this little meal I'm putting together for us."

As he talked he set pot of water to boil, added a dash of salt, then quickly peeled an onion and just as quickly did the same with the ginger root.

"The subject is palace security," he continued, "and the dish is chicken cutlet, Gurkha style. Got the recipe from Subedar Major Lumbar, who got it from his mom in Nepal, so you know it's gotta be authentic."

The water was steaming now and he dumped the whole onion, ginger and a dozen or more cloves of garlic into the pot. When the water started to boil, he added the cubed chicken.

"You're also probably wondering how somebody like you - a bad ass Mantis Corps kiddie - ended up head of my personal bodyguard."

Sten grimaced."I have to admit, Your Majesty," he said, "when Colonel Mahoney told me about the posting I thought he was either joking or that he'd lost his - well… it's something best not to speculate on when it's your superior officer."

The Emperor chuckled, knocked back his scotch, and set the glass before Sten for a refill.

"Ian does have a pretty peculiar sense of humor," The Emperor said, "otherwise I wouldn't keep him around. Being nuts is also part of his job description. A few thousand years ago - when I was a kid - they used to call it 'thinking outside of the box.' Whatever the hell the box was supposed to be."

He belted back another shot, then said, "Here's the thing, Captain. You may, or may not have noticed, but things are getting pretty dicey around here of late. There's the diplomatic mess with the Tahn, which could easily lead to war. Something I do not relish. And the political fallout from those tensions have brought things to a rolling boil… Speaking of which -"

The Emperor paused to chop the heat under the cooking pot, then removed the chicken with a meshed-bottom ladle. He fished out the onion, garlic and ginger and put them in a different bowl to cool.

"Anyway, I've got the Imperial Guard to keep obvious troublemakers away," the Eternal Emperor said. "But that's not real security. They're all capable enough, but a little too square-jawed for really sneaky Pete stuff."

Sten got it. "Begging your pardon, Your Highness," he said, "but from a black ops Mantis point of view palace security leaks like a sieve. It'll only stop the obvious sociopaths that the cops already keep tabs on as it is."

"Exactly my point, Captain," the Eternal Emperor said. "What I want is for you to put your tricky Mantis training to work making this place as terrorist-proof as possible."

Sten started to reply, but the Emperor held up a hand, stopping him. "Hang on. Chef's falling behind schedule."

The Emperor dumped the onion, garlic, ginger and boiled chicken into a processor. Followed by  the cinnamon, garam flour, turmeric and chopped chilies. Gave it a whirr, then another - then one more. Then he scooped the mess out onto the butcher block and quickly made them into patties.

Next, he plunked a bowl of bread crumbs on the block, followed by a bowl of whisked eggs. Each pattie was drenched into the egg mixture, rolled in bread crumbs, dusted with regular flour, then tossed into a hot, sunflower oil coated skillet.

The patties sizzled and steamed and smelled absolutely delicious.

Meanwhile, he put together a lightning fast salad of thin sliced peeled tomatoes, cucumbers with a tangy yogurt dressing. Two platters went on the counter.

He made a bed of rice pilaf and the patties went on top.

"Dig in," he instructed Sten.

Sten dug.

It was absolutely delicious!

"Incredible, Your Highness," he said.

The Emperor smiled approval, then reached over and poured them both shots of Stregg.

"About the security problem," he said. "Any ideas spring to mind."

Sten said, "First, I'll need you to tell me a deep dark secret, Your Majesty," he said.

The Emperor frowned.

Sten quickly added, "It doesn't have to be a real secret, Sir. A good lie would be even better."

The Emperor nodded. "God knows, after all these years I'm good at that."

Sten smiled, but not too broadly. He said, "Then I'll drop a black marble in Palace Admin. And we'll see where it comes out."

The Emperor laughed. "I like it." He indicated the bottle of stregg. "Pour us a couple. Good lies come easier with stregg."

Sten poured.

 THE END

*****

 THE INGREDIENTS:

1. Large onion - peeled, but left whole.

2.Six cloves of garlic, peeled, but left whole

3. Large ginger root.

4. Four green chilies, chopped.

5. One half cup garam flour. (ground chickpea flour)

6. One cup seasoned bread crumbs.

7. Two eggs whisked in bowl.

8. One quarter teaspoon cinnamon

9. Half cup regular flour for dusting.

10. Pinch of salt.

  *****

ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP

The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books.  The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!

Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY

Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT

Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH

*****

HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN 

YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!

*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK

Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held  cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.  

*****

IT'S A BOOK!

THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES! 

HERE'S WHERE YOU BUY IT

TRADE PAPERBACK.  

KINDLE. 

NOOK BOOK. 

ALL E-BOOK FLAVORS.  

*****

TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

STEN #1 NOW IN SPANISH! 

Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four 

episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands.  Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!

Link To Part One 

Link To Part Two

Link To Part Three

THE SINGLE MALT WARS - A KILGOUR TALE

Note from Allan: Matt has been a good friend and loyal Sten reader from way back. As a matter of fact, Empire Day was his idea, which he proposed last year. He suggested that it be held on The Ides Of March, everyone voted and the rest, as they say, is Imperial History. He's been threatening to commit a Kilgour joke for many months now, and he's finally come through. Read. Groan. And weep. Meanwhile, here's what my friend has to say about himself: "Matt Kaufman works in Internet Marketing in the Chicago area, and first came to Sten through his readership of Cole and Bunch's book "A Reckoning for Kings." A lifelong reader, and Sci-fi and Fantasy devotee in his youth, Matt mostly reads history and politics these days, but has found through his rereading of Sten a depth behind the action, characters and plotting that he didn't quite have the wisdom or experience to appreciate during his first reading."

THE SINGLE MALT WARS

By Matt Kaufman

On the Standard G world that the Laird Alex Kilgour had terraformed and dubbed “Saint Andrews,” the Laird himself faced a tougher position than he had seen in years. Sweat poured down the shaft of the club he held, as he swore at the thing he had chased for the past several hours.

“Ye clottin' cursed thing! Th’ mon back at the shop said ye’d correct me slice!”

The dimpled white golf ball, about eight meters off the fairway of the 17^th hole, glistened innocently in the late morning light as Kilgour tugged his plaid stockings back to the top of bulging calf, and prepared to address the ball.

Sten, the Laird’s former comrade in arms, relaxed in the hovercart, and took a swig from his bottle of “Alex’s Honest Ale,"  straight from Kilgour’s brewery (conveniently located at the 9^th hole), and contemplated before he commented.

“I told you, it’s the weight distribution. Golf balls weren’t designed to weigh two pounds. These legacy courses you like to build aren’t made for gorillas like you.”

Kilgour adjusted his grip and his knotty, heavy worlder muscles flexed with dangerous strength. “Ah wunt tah play th’ game lahk me ancestors. Same courses. Same distance. If ah played with real golf balls, ah’d play everah doomned hole with a Sand Wedge, ‘n een th’n they’d be Par 3s.”

Sten snorted. “Not with your short game.”

Kilgour swung his reinforced terasteel three iron, and it hissed in ugly arc. The ball erupted from the rough, along with a good share of the rough itself, creating a divot that Sten figured would take the greenskeepers a good hour of work to fill in.

The ball hit the green, and bounced half-heartedly toward the cup where Sten’s own ball rested placidly, six feet from the hole. After seeming to make a decision, Kilgour’s ball determinedly rolled into sandtrap on the far edge of the green.

“Drakh and Blast!” Kilgour steamed. The terasteel shaft bent dangerously in his hands as he stalked back to the hovercart.

“Needed more backspin,” Sten said as he thumbed the cart’s motivator. Kilgour sidled into the cart next to Sten, and the MacLean drive whined with anxiety as one side of the cart dropped several centimeters.

“Ah noo it needed moor backsp’n, ye clot! Tha’s wha’ I shouldn’e lissen’d to ye when ye said to go f’r distance!”

Sten bit back a smile as his friend simmered.

Alex reached bag into his bag and pulled out a battered hip flask. “Time to suttle me narves w’ s’methin’ muhdicinal.”

Sten finished his ale and pulled out another one from the carts dashcooler. “You seem to have been sick all morning.”

Kilgour eyed the hip flask with something like religious fervor. “Nah mon. This is spah-shull.”

He uncapped the flask and savored the smell that wafted out. Sten caught a whiff of it. “Smells like…Scotch? But it seems like it’s more…”

Kilgour took a breath, and drank, letting the amber goodness rest in his mouth for a few moments before letting it slide down his throat. A warm glow began to spread inside him, and he smiled beneficently.

“Aye. Real Scotch. Me family’s oown Single Malt, age-uhd f’r seex and tharty stand’rd yearrrrs. Hund’d doon f’r g’n’rayshoons ahpoon g’n’rayshoons.”

Sten stopped the hovercart and grabbed his putter. “Don’t scregg me Alex. Hell, I was the one who put the evidence forth at the symposium after the civil war was over to say that despite the Emperor’s crimes, there were some things history had to credit him with, including the reinvention of Scotch, which was lost for millenia.”

Alex capped the flask and stuck it into the pocket of his Plus Fours. He swabbed the club face of his sand wedge with a dirty towel as he stared at his ball, deep in the sand, centimeters away from the near meter high edge of the sand trap.

“Well lad, " he said, "ye might say tha’ wha’ ye call Scotch was, but we Highlanders noo buttah. Real scotch nevah twas lost. It just warn’t shared outta’ the Clans.”

Sten eyed the foursome playing behind them, now setting up for their tee shot. “Oh?” Sten stepped back out of the potential – no he thought, make that inevitable – blast area of sand that Kilgour would send forth.

“Aye. Ye see. Back on ancient Earth, the Clans w‘re fahrrced to flee the auld fields and moors for the Clan Colonies due to ahn unstoop’ble plague.”

Whack! Sand tore through the air like buckshot, followed by a flow of scorching gibberish Sten was glad he couldn’t understand. The ball remained in the trap.

“We dinna noo quaht wha’ th’ plague was, so many millennia noo gone, but we noo it’s nahm. The Oonglish. The Oonglish Coondoo D’velopahs.

Whack! More sand, no ball.

“Nah, noo Clansman nah can ken the meanin’ be-hand twose words, but me ancestors forbad to sp’k ov em in mure th’n a whispah f’r cent-trees.

Whack!

Sten brushed some sand out of his hair. Kilgour had geysered it nearly straight up. “Sounds terrible”

Whack!

“Aye. Innahoo, when me ancestors fled, they toook care to prahseerve oor culture. The traditions, the tartans…

“The skirts” Sten put in.

"The KILTS!”

With a mighty swing Kilgour powered the ball through the edge of the trap, and it rolled past the hole.

Kilgour sighed. “…and ah course, the drinkables. Me furbears tore down all the distilleries in Scotand tah keep ‘em from the plague of the Oonglish, and put the distillin’ equipment onto the fuhstest and best weaponed Colony ship, along with all Scotch f’r the new system. "

Sten grabbed the flag out of the hole as Alex grabbed his putter. Sten glanced backward. The party behind them was getting anxious. He decided it best not to mention it to Kilgour while he had a metal rod in his hands.

Kilgour planted his feet next to the ball and waggled his hips, eying the ball, the hole, and then the ball, and then the hole. And then the ball. And then the hole.

“Soooo, the Clans looded into theer thousands oof colony ships, and to celebrate leaving Sol, they ‘ad a final cele-nee-bree-ayshun. On the ships, the second best Scotch was drank, and the w’rst scotch was also drank. Ooonly Scotch left was the goot st’ff on the best ship. And then thah made the jump to the Clan Colonies.”

Kilgour putted, and lipped it. The centrifugal force worked like a force multiplier on the ball, sending it out even further than its original lie. Kilgour grimaced, and then took a quick shot from this hip flask. It helped. A little.

“Oond thun, disthaster stroock. Soomhoo soom soon uhva Campbell jumped the Distillery ship in too close to the soon.

“The Sun? Did it kill the crew?”

“Worset. The scotch an’ all th’ distillin’ gear went subatomic."

“Ouch.”

Kilgour eyed the ball again, took a few practice swings, and then got down on his hands and knees to eye the six feet between the ball and the hole.

“Aye. So me ancestors thoot, jest a setback. But they thoot thah could make more scotch, as they had all the distillin’ blueprints and recipes and the secrets of Scotch stored on fiche. Boot, woon thah thried to pull up the datah, thah knew thah war scregged. The Fiche was rotten.”

“Rotten Fiche?”

“Aye. The data was corrupted during th’ Jump. Soom soon of a Campbell didn’a realize back then that the microwaves poot oot bah those auld engines was bad for Fiche. You can’t microwave a Fiche. It never turns out well.”

“So, you did lose the secret of Scotch after all?”

“Soo wah thoot. And then came th’ durkest time a’ Clan history.

“The Clan Wars of Settlement?”

Kilgour tapped the ball with his putter. It rolled three feet, curved off to the right six inches and stopped. Sten could swear he heard gravel mixing somewhere near, until he realized Alex was grinding his teeth.

Kilgour exhaled slowly. “Wahl, indeed that twas happenin’ at the same time, but I’m refarrin’ tah th’ errah the Clans call the ‘Time withoot Scotch.’ Oncet the makin' of the puire speerit had b'n lost f'r what we thought was f’r goot, th' Clans tried oot other drinkables, with r's'lts th't war mixed, noo pun intended.

"Thar was this clear st'ff a foreign clan made. The Rooskies by name, en th' drink theyt brewed 's was trooly a roosk to drink. Ah pref'r mah taters frayed, n'ah 'n lickerd form."

Kilgour hit the ball again. It rolled past the hole, missing it by a centimeter, and stopped half a meter from the hole, which seemed to grin at him.

“Ahnd twas soomthin the ‘Muricans drank, called Borebon, and a bore it was. Jest imagine a bottle of Scotch. Noo add a barrel’a moody water, and sthrain the turrible mix wi’ th’ kilt of a Campbell. “

Kilgour marked the ball, picked it up and scrubbed it so ferociously that Sten thought the dimples would be eroded away.

“Th’ Clansmen tried Soju fr’m Korrrrreha, and it was so-so. Sake from Juh-pan? Rocky. German Riesling was risible. Manischevetz from Israel was unspeakable. Ouzo? Oh no.”

Kilgour put the ball back down, and eyed the vast distance of half a meter between ball and hole. He addressed the ball, and also addressed Sten, with a hushed voice.

“Weeell, th’ Clan wars raged doorrin’ all th’s time. All blam’ehd each ah th’ oth’r foor the loos of Scotch. And woon we’d almoost toorn oorsoolves to pieces, durin’ the Siege of New Glasgow, an Engineer found an old Magnetic Tape taken from Auld Earth, in the oor-kives ah th’ Edinburgh museum. "

Sten was amazed. Magnetic Tape? Kilgour might as well have said Babylonian Clay tablets.

Kilgour putted the ball, and it sunk into the hole with a satisfying thunk. He straightened, his face sheer satisfaction. ".. .an' on that reel of Magnetic Tape th’ auld Clansmen pulled in the secret of the Fiche thaht had goot awah. The Blueprints and recipes uh thah moost ooldest and rahveered brands uh Scotch.

Kilgour took the flag from Sten, who took his putting stance. A mild coughing fit seemed to grip Kilgour, until Sten looked up sharply. Kilgour cleared his throath. “Soo. A throoce was called, and 12 years later, at th’ first uncaskin’ and tastin’, the Clans declared peace throo-oott the system.”

Sten putted in the ball, and Kilgour replaced the flag. They walked away from the green, much to the relief of the foursome at the tees.

Kilgour handed Sten the flask, urging him to drink. Sten took a sip, and nearly gasped. It was incredibly good. He handed it back to Alex, with some awe.

“But Alex, this is just…” Sten looked at the flask that Kilgour held lovingly. “Why have you all kept it a secret?”

Kilgour smiled. “Well, the Clans thoot thaht the puire power of Scotch – real Scotch – to ignite war and create peace w’ah jest too dangerous for Oultanders to noo aboot.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“Two reasons, Sten me lad. Despaht ye bein’ an ooonorary B’hor, me Clan has choosen to m’k ye an oonorary Scotsman. Ye’ve demn sure earned it. Second, noo one ‘d believe ye.”

“Well, I appreciate you telling me, Alex, really."

And then, as they settled into the hovercart, Kilgour got deadly serious.

And do you understand the deepest lesson of this all, Sten? Never run out of Scotch Tape.

THE END

*****

ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP

The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books.  The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!

Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY

Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT

Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH

*****

HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN 

YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!

*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK

Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held  cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.  

*****

IT'S A BOOK!

THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES! 

HERE'S WHERE YOU BUY IT

TRADE PAPERBACK.  

KINDLE. 

NOOK BOOK. 

ALL E-BOOK FLAVORS.  

*****

TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

STEN #1 NOW IN SPANISH! 

Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four 

episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands.  Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!

Link To Part One 

Link To Part Two

Link To Part Three

EMPIRE DAY 2013 HEATS UP!

EMPIRE DAY 2013

MARC 15 THROUGH MARCH 17

BUT IT OVERLAPS ST. PATTY'S DAY, YOU SAY?

WHY, HAPPY ST. PAT'S DAY, THEN!

NOW, LET'S CLOTTIN' PARTY!!!

What's On Tap:

Click The Following Links And Get Your Sten On!!!!

Sten #9 - The Return Of Sten

An Alex Kilgour Tale From Jacqueline Lichtenberg Of Sime-Gen Fame

Frank Gessel: "Slaving Away" And "What Goes Around" 

Andy Murgas: "Mission To Bunch Three"

Diane Mae Robinson: "The Forest Painter And The Star Master"

Matt Kaufman: "The Single Malt Wars" - A Kilgour Tale

A Sten Sampler: First Chapters Of All Eight Books

Recipes From The Emp's Kitchen

The Worst Kilgour Joke Ever - Revisited:

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - The Grand Conclusion

STEN: Background To Science Fiction Adventure

And Last - But Hardly Least - The Recipe For Stregg

Oh, Yeah: Click Here To Buy The Books

More To Be Added As The Festivities Continue

For those of you new to the Sten series, here's what it is all about:

THE STEN ADVENTURES

By Allan Cole & Chris Bunch

International best -selling authors and screenwriters Allan Cole and the late Chris Bunch were collaborators for nearly twenty years. Together, and separately, they have published over forty novels and sold more than 150 TV and movie screenplays. See Allan's homepage at http://www.acole.com for details about his life and work. For information about Chris, see his Wikipedia entry. Both authors are also featured in the International Movie Data Base.

FOREWORD TO THE NOVEL SERIES

Hailed as a “landmark science fiction series” the Sten Series has thrilled millions of readers all over the world.

Set three thousand years in the future, the eight Sten novels tell the tale of a tough, street-wise orphan who escapes his fate as factory planet “delinq” to become the strong right-hand of the most powerful man in the Universe – a man hailed by his billons of subjects as “The Eternal Emperor.”

THE HERO

Sten is the ultimate survivor. He's lightning quick, mean streets cunning and blessed with the

 twin gifts of hungry intelligence and hard-won common sense. Born on a factory planet where life has less value than the lowliest machine, Sten rebels against The Company that enslaved, then killed his parents. He finds a new family of sorts - and the means for revenge - in the ranks of the Emperor's Imperial Forces.

A series of crucial missions brings him to the attention of the Eternal Emperor himself. Sten's talents and unshakable loyalty are tested in crisis after crisis, brutal warfare, and assassination.

Besides his “black ops” skills, Sten is armed with a weapon of last resort – he carries a small knife made of an undetectable substance in a flesh and muscle “sheath” in his arm. With a blade edge only one molecule thick, the knife can cut through any substance like butter.

Sten rises swiftly until he becomes a confidante and advisor to the Emperor. Through all this Sten never forgets his lowly origins. Self-depreciating humor, friendship and luck in love shield him from Fame's blinding light. If anything his empathy and sense of responsibility for the common folk of the Empire grow with each new honor and badge of rank.

Finally he is asked to make the supreme sacrifice - risking even those he loves - to stand up for the citizens of the Empire. Then, when he succeeds, he turns his back on the greatest honor of all.

STEN’S WORLD

Picture the greatest Empire history has known. Its boundaries are the Universe itself, containing more stars, planets and sentient life than could be calculated by the swiftest 21st Century computer. This is a space kingdom where humans live side-by-side with countless alien forms. In fact the word alien itself is offensive and all species are merely called "beings." The planetary systems range from the sophistication of Prime World where the elite gather - to the rough and ready mining and frontier worlds at the Empire's edges.

Ruling over all this is:

THE ETERNAL EMPEROR

As his title implies, the Eternal Emperor is a human who has mastered death through the use of secret cloning techniques and mind transfer. When he’s in his cups, he sometimes boasts that although he’s been the target of hundreds of assassinations, only three were successful.

The Emperor is the ultimate capitalist and when Sten steps onto the stage he has reigned for three thousand years. The source of the Eternal Emperor's power is a mysterious fuel - called Anti-Matter Two (AM2). It drives the star ships that link the Empire and provides the energy for all industry, agriculture and commerce. He alone controls its supply and price. And he alone knows where AM2 is to be found.

The Emperor is no tyrant. He prefers wit to force, negotiation to confrontation. But if all else fails he has enormous military resources to back up his will. His past is a rigorously guarded secret and his future is permanently entwined with the Empire he created.

Despite his vast power the Emperor greatly misses the familiar things of his 21st Century youth. On a bad day he would trade it all in for a good bottle of single malt scotch or the sweet sound of an old, hand-crafted violin. He spends his spare time in his antique-cluttered royal suites, restoring or re-constructing nostalgic objects from his salad days.

The Emperor, who has the looks of a handsome, 35-year-old, is also a consummate cook and spends hours in his Prime World kitchens recreating the recipes of ancient Earth, while hatching elaborate plans to confound his many enemies.

The Eternal Emperor sees a bit of his long ago self in Sten. After all, as he occasionally implies, his roots are as common as Sten's. If their relationship was not by necessity that of ruler and subject they might even have become friends.

Sten admires the Emperor. Perhaps, in a way, he even considers him a father figure. And he has sworn absolute loyalty to the Empire. In the end, however, he will realize that his loyalty is to the idea not the man.

OTHER CHARACTERS

Sten’s world is filled with bizarre and wonderful characters. Among the more important are:

ALEX KILGOUR: Sten’s sidekick and confidant. An incredibly strong heavy-worlder of Scots descent, Kilgour's passion is shaggy-dog stories. All of which are so awful that his mission mates can hardly wait for the bad guys to kick in the door and interrupt him.

IAN MAHONEY: Sten's mentor. A top military man, Mahoney excels at both cloak-and-dagger and more conventional warfare, and prefers to lead from the front. He is totally loyal to Emperor.

DOC: A furry alien with the psionic talent to make people like him. It helps that humans think he's a cute, cuddly teddy-bear. Carnivorous little Doc would just love to tear their throats out for that.

IDA: The brilliant Gypsy operative (and hotrod pilot) whose hobby is making huge amounts on the stock market. She could easily retire, but she loves the challenges and danger of black operations work. Fat, mustached and foul-mouthed, she delights in harassing authority.

And there are many more, including the various beautiful and multi-talented women Sten squires during his adventures. Ranging from a tough Prime World detective, to the princess of a barbaric race of space pirates.

STREGG – THE DRINK: This heart-stopping booze appears first in Book Two: The Wolf Worlds, where a race of Viking-like beings is introduced. Hailing from an ice-planet, their ancestral enemy was the Streggan, a fierce beast that hunted the Bohr almost into annihilation. Finally, they turned the tide and wiped out the beast entirely. They named their favorite drink Stregg, in honor of their ancient enemy. The names were inspired by a boozy session the authors’ had at Harry’ Bar in Century City, California. There they discovered the wonders of Stregga, the Italian liqueur. It means witch. To make Stregg for yourself, mix one part Stregg and one part white tequila. Some prefer a little simple syrup. We did not.

THE EIGHT STEN NOVELS

Sten #1
Sten #2 - The Wolf Worlds
Sten #3 - The Court Of A Thousand Suns
Sten #4 - Fleet Of The Damned
Sten #5 - Revenge Of The Damned
Sten #6 - Return Of The Emperor
Sten #7 - Vortex
Sten #8 - Empire's End

GET THEM HERE

ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP

The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books.  The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!

Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY

Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT

Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH

*****

HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN 

YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!

*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK

Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held  cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.  

*****

IT'S A BOOK!

THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES! 

HERE'S WHERE YOU BUY IT

TRADE PAPERBACK.  

KINDLE. 

NOOK BOOK. 

ALL E-BOOK FLAVORS.  

*****

TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

STEN #1 NOW IN SPANISH! 

Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four 

episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands.  Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!

Link To Part One 

Link To Part Two

Link To Part Three

STEN #9 - THE RETURN OF STEN

Note from Allan: Over the years, many readers have urged me to continue the Sten series. I've been tempted, but so far have been satisfied with the ending Chris and I envisioned. However, if the series were to continue, how might it start? The Eternal Emperor is no more, slain by his once loyal servant. On his death, Sten was offered the keys to the kingdom. After all, he had the secret to AM2 and the stature to take the throne himself. Instead, Sten makes a grand gesture. Like a futuristic Prometheus he makes a gift of AM2 for all Beingkind. No strings attached. And he rejects the offer of ultimate power, in hopes that true democratic rule will take form. So, what would happen afterwards? How would the citizens of the Empire respond?

Well, here's one way it might work out. It certainly would be right in line with the Emperor's cynical view of things.

STEN #9 - THE RETURN OF STEN

By Allan Cole

Based On The Novel Series 
By Allan Cole & Chris Bunch

PROLOGUE

 …Then he heard it.

It sounded like a voice.

Sten dressed quickly, then moved silently toward the source of that voice.

It was the Eternal Emperor.

He stood in the center of a large, empty compartment. Just in front of him was a shallow pool, now dry.

There was a bare stand beside it.

The far wall was a monster screen, sensesmashing with the colors/not colors of N-space.

His back was to Sten. His arms hung, hands empty.

Who had he been talking to? Himself? The ship?

Sten lifted his pistol, then hesitated. It was not any misguided sense of fair play— in his long career he’d shot many an enemy from behind without warning.

But…

“In my end,” the Emperor said, “is my beginning.”

Sten jolted. The Emperor laughed, but did not turn.

“Of course, would there even be another beginning is the question?” the Emperor said, in a near monotone. “Or would the next refute Beelzy, and return to that long line of milksops it took to breed me?

“And even if the ship bred true again, what would the path be? Would he… would my… perhaps you might call him my son… find his way, alone, back? Would he be able to cut out the telltale inside as I did, without it detonating?

“But,” and the Emperor’s voice slowed, “it’s a question that’ll never be answered, will it?

“Either way” — and as he spoke, he whirled, dropping into a gunfighter’s crouch, Sten realizing here was the trap, the Emperor’s right hand flashing for his belt, gun coming up, reflexpoint aim…

Sten fired, and the projection flickered, holograph flashing off, and then the real Emperor came around the corner, close, too close, real pistol about to fire, Sten’s foot up leg blocking, the Emperor’s arm thudding against the bulkhead, painshout and somehow his own pistol was gone, knife coming out of armsheath, into hand, and it was very slow:

Sten’s right foot slid forward, just clear of the ground. It found a firm stance, half a meter in front of his left, as that foot precisely turned toe outward, and slid backward on its instep.

His knife-hand came up and forward, just as Sten’s left hand caught his right, just at the wrist, clamped for a brace, as his hips swiveled, shock-impact and he full-stretch lunged, needlepoint attack lancing out, going home.

His knife buried itself in the Eternal Emperor’s throat. Mouthgape. Bloodgush.

Sten recovered as the Emperor stumbled backward, backward, then fell, fell through all time and space, and his body struck the deck with the limp thud of a corpse.

Sten took two steps forward.

The Emperor’s face held a look of vast bewilderment.

It softened, toward blankness.

And then the mouth that had ordered too many deaths twisted. Deathrictus—but Sten thought it to be a smile. The eyes that had seen too many years and too much evil saw nothing, looking straight up at the chamber’s overhead.

Or perhaps they saw everything.

Time ran free again, and Sten was moving, diving for his pistol, and in a crouch. He was firing, firing like a madman. Into that empty pool, into that wallscreen, and, in now-realized carefully spaced shots, around the room.

An end…

… There would never be another beginning for the Emperor.

Fire gouted from the walls, and multicolored smokes whirled.

The ship screamed.

Emergency alarms… distorted metal… self-destructing cybernetics and electronics…

Perhaps.

But the ship screamed.

And Sten ran for the control room.

Sten swung the targeting indicators across the bulk of the ship. One here… two here… three here… four here… five here… six here… seven targeted here.

One reserve.

Fire when…

… The first charge blew, the screen told him, the demo pack in the control room that Sten had set for a fifteen-E-minute delay as he fled toward the meteor hole and his ship.

One blast, and the robot mining ships brainlessly processing AM2 somewhere in the distance would be stopping. But they could be reprogrammed and recontrolled, if anyone wished. 

Later.

Sten slammed fingers down onto firing keys, a dissonant chord of hellfire.

Seven nuclear-headed Goblin XII missiles spat from the tacship’s launch tubes, and, ignoring the jumble of N-space input their sensors shouted to them, homed as ordered on the Emperor’s birth/death ship.

Sten’s ship was too close when they impacted.

All his screens blanked, went to secondary, blanked again, and then, probably because they were jury-rigged to give computer enhancements of N-space, stayed dead for long seconds.

Finally, one imaging radar came to life, and adjusted its input to the enhancement program.

Colors/not colors.

Nothing else.

It was as if the great decahedron had never existed.

The Eternal Emperor was gone.

Sten stared for a long, long time at that emptiness, perhaps wishing many things had never been, perhaps making sure the void would not take form.

Finally, he turned to his controls.

He fed in his return course, and went at full drive for the discontinuity.

And home.

It was over...

*****

...FIFTEEN YEARS LATER...

*****

CHAPTER ONE 

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

The voice was silky smooth.

“By the grace of the Imperial High Commission,” said the voice – soft but somehow rising over the chaos that was the courtroom - “I now call this Special Tribunal to order.”

The fabulous woman judge who owned the voice – known as the Lady Souflia’ - brought the gavel down, not with a hard judicial crash, but only a gentle tap. The effect was the same – instant silence descended upon a vaulted room so crowded with beings from all over the Empire that the fresher units groaned under the effort to recycle odiferous mist that rose above the crowd  like steam rising from the Great Sarbonian swamp of antiquity.

Every being in the courtroom – which normally served as spaceport warehouse – was of high rank. There were political leaders, presidents, prime ministers, kings and queens, princes and princes, lords and ladies and religious leaders of every persuasion.

They had gone to much trouble and expense to gather here for a single purpose: to see that justice was done. Or at least, justice as they viewed it.

Meanwhile, vidbots roamed about, capturing the scene in images that were broadcast across the farthest reaches of the Galaxy to an audience whose numbers were unequaled in viewing history. Vidcasters spoke softly, providing a running commentary on events.

Lady Souflia’ – the judge presiding over the courtroom – had the face and form of an angel. She was seated upon a dais carved out of a single block of black steel that was lofted on grav-units many meters above the proceedings, where she could observe every nuance exhibited by the crowd.

She was clad in a swirling blood-red robe, that did more to show off her lush form than hide it. Her skin was the color of fresh cream, her lips full and red, her eyes were large and green and they glittered like rare stones. Her face was small and almond-shaped and was framed by a fiery red mane that spilled across her shoulders to come rest on her high breasts.

The Lady Souflia’ leaned forward, lips parted in anticipation. “Bailiff,” she said, “bring in the accused.”

There was long sigh from the crowd as the black-uniformed bailiff rushed to do her bidding. He hurried to a wide steel door, palmed a switch, then stepped back.

A square object, about two meters to a side, floated out on grav units. Draped entirely in black, it was pushed along by two muscular guardsmen, who wore stun rods and willyguns belted about their waists.

Lady Souflia’ palmed a switch and her dais floated downward until it was a few meters above and to the side of the strange object. She stared at it a few moments, and the crowd noise started to build again.

Then she stabbed the red-tipped finger at the object, saying, “Reveal the prisoner.”

The black cloth was swept away and the crowd gasped as they saw a man standing inside a steel cage. He wasn’t a particularly imposing figure. – a little less than average in height, his build muscular, like a gymnast’s, his features dark, as was his hair, except for streaks of silver at the temples. His cheeks were hollow, as if he had been on short rations, and his eyes were bleak pools of exhaustion.

Somehow he managed a sort of dignity in his ragged gray prison uniform, and he stood straight despite the weight of the thick metal bands capturing his wrists, which were in turn linked to a heavy metal belt that encircled his waist. Ankle chains confined his legs and they were similarly connected to the belt with locks of imposing size.

The Lady Souflia’ studied the man, taking his measure. “You appear to be without counsel,” she finally said.

The man grinned through bloody teeth. “There were those who tried,” he said. “But they were all either arrested, killed, or run off.”

“So you claim in your writ,” the judge said, scrolling through the legal summary on her desktop with her red-tipped nails. “But I don’t see any evidence to support your charge – or witnesses, for that matter. ”

The man replied “I regret to say that the witnesses suffered similar fates.” He sighed, “For a long time it hasn’t been healthy to be listed among my friends.”

“You also claim,” the judge said, ignoring the last, “that you were tortured during your incarceration.” She frowned, a slight crease marring her perfect forehead. “This is a serious charge. As all know, torture is forbidden. It violates not only our laws, but calls into question all that we hold holy in our civilization.”

The man turned his head slightly, coughing. His features momentarily twisted in pain and he spat blood onto the floor of his cage.

When the pain diminished, he said, “It must have been my imagination.”

“Indeed,” said the Lady Souflia’. Her lips wrinkling in displeasure at the sight of the bloody spittle.

Then she stiffened, drawing herself up. “Citizen Sten,” she said, “you have been charged with the crime of Regicide. Of cruelly stealing the life of the Eternal Emperor - lawful ruler of billions of fellow citizens.”

After a pause, she asked, “How do you plead?”

Sten gave her a long look, a twisted grin on his face. “Not guilty.”

The Lady Souflia’s eyes widened. “You have the audacity to claim that you did not kill him?”

“Of course I killed him,” Sten said. “But he tried to kill me first.” He shrugged. “I call that self defense.”

The crowd roared its displeasure at this. The sound was so great it rattled the thick walls of the aerodrome. There were shouts of, “Monster!” And, “Assassin!” And, “Murderer!”

The hatred was so intense that Sten nearly let his head drop, as all those emotions struck at him like fists. But he fought it off, pulling himself upright again with a rattle of heavy chains.

The Lady Souflia’ rapped at the dais with a little more force. Eventually the crowd noises died. But even then there were wild cries here and there. She ignored them.

She graced Sten with a rueful smile. “You just witnessed yourself what the dignitaries gathered here in the courtroom have to say about your claim of innocence.”

Sten made no reply. He merely turned his head – and this time, without a cough – spit a bloody stream of contempt on the floor of the cage.

The Lady Souflia pretended not to notice. She studied a welter of numbers scrolling across her desk.

Finally, she looked up. “It seems that your fellow citizens all across the Empire are of the same mind as the beings assembly here.

“In short, they find you guilty as charged.”

She tapped a final number on the vid-screen. “The vote is as close as to one hundred percent that anyone can get, when so many billions are weighing in.”

Sten barked harsh laughter. “What? Not even a show trial? No evidence presented? No cross-examination?”

The beautiful judge sighed. “That would be quite useless,” she said. “It is a well-known fact that you killed the Eternal Emperor. Why go to all that expense when the outcome will be the same.”

She paused, as a black-cloaked aide approached. Tall, and pale as a corpse, he leaned close to whisper in her ear. The judge nodded at his words, murmuring, “Yes, Fr'nk. Thank you for reminding me.”

The aide backed away and the judge looked long at Sten. Then she said, “Mercy might be within your grasp. Just tell us where the others are – your wife, Cind. And your fellow conspirator, Alex Kilgour. There are others, of course. A handful of misguided followers. Only tell us and I promise to spare you a little pain.”

Sten stood firm. “Never,” he said.

The Lady Sophia nodded – she’d expected no less. But the aide had reminded her of the necessity of the question. The denial must be public so that all would know that rules had been followed.

She reached into an alcove beneath the desktop. “I have one final duty to perform.” The Lady Souflia’ drew out a cap of ebony black and placed it upon her helm of red curls.

With a rap of her gavel, she said, “The penalty for your crime against beingkind can only be - death.”

The crowdroar was even more deafening than before.

And with a dainty wave at the vid-bots she palmed a switch and she and the dais swept up and away and out of sight.

The moment the judge vanished, the crowd broke. Spurred on by amphetamine and adrenaline gases pumped into the courtroom by the freshers, dignitaries and aristocrats alike became a hate-filled mob and they charged Sten's cage.

Guards boiled in, pushing at them ineffectually with plas shields, deliberately missing targets with their stun rods. The vidbots went mad, dashing here and there on the ground and through the air, as excited news commentators spoke heatedly and favorably about the “righteous display of passions.”

Weighted with chains, Sten dragged himself to the middle of the small cage, but there was no way he could escape objects that were thrown at him, much less the foul rain of spittle.

The bars of the cage were twisted. A few came loose, and there was an even greater shout. Blood-curdling cries of triumph as hands reached through the gaps, trying to get at him.

Then, when it seemed that all was lost, and the crowd would break through to tear him to pieces, a strong surge of electricity powered through the cage.

Although it wasn’t enough of a charge to harm anyone, the crowd was temporarily thrown back. Then the grav units whirred beneath the cage and it shot upward, carrying Sten out of reach. An unseen driver guided the cage with remote controls, sending it toward a gaping bay about ten meters above the crowd.

He swept through into darkness and then he was breathing lung-burning gasses, choking and clawing, wondering if he was to be executed so soon.

And then he was plunged into a pit so deep he wondered if would never reach the end of it.

But just before he blacked out he thought, "Clottin' fools. They didn't find the knife."

(To Be Continued. Maybe. Possibly. Who The Clot Knows?)

*****

ALL THREE STEN OMNIBUS EDITIONS NOW ON TAP

The entire 8-novel landmark science fiction series is now being presented in three three giant omnibus editions from Orbit Books.  The First - BATTLECRY - features the first three books in the series: Sten #1; Sten #2 -The Wolf Worlds; and Sten #3, The Court Of A Thousand Suns. Next: JUGGERNAUT, which features Sten #4, Fleet Of The Damned; Sten #5, Revenge Of The Damned; and Sten #6, The Return Of The Emperor. Finally, there's DEATHMATCH, which contains Sten #6, Vortex; and Sten #7, End Of Empire. Click on the highlighted titles to buy the books. Plus, if you are a resident of The United Kingdom, you can download Kindle versions of the Omnibus editions. Which is one clot of a deal!

Here's the Kindle link for BATTLECRY

Here's the Kindle link for JUGGERNAUT

Here's the Kindle link for DEATHMATCH

*****

HERE ARE ALL EIGHT AMERICAN EDITIONS OF STEN 

YOU CAN BUY THE TRADE PAPERBACKS, E-BOOKS AND AUDIO BOOKS BY CLICKING ON THE STEN PAGE!

*****
THE STEN COOKBOOK & KILGOUR JOKEBOOK

Two new companion editions to the international best-selling Sten series. In the first, learn the Emperor's most closely held  cooking secrets. In the other, Sten unleashes his shaggy-dog joke cracking sidekick, Alex Kilgour. Both available as trade paperbacks or in all major e-book flavors. Click here to tickle your funny bone or sizzle your palate.  

*****

IT'S A BOOK!

THE COMPLETE HOLLYWOOD MISADVENTURES! 

HERE'S WHERE YOU BUY IT

TRADE PAPERBACK.  

KINDLE. 

NOOK BOOK. 

ALL E-BOOK FLAVORS.  

*****

TALES OF THE BLUE MEANIE

Venice Boardwalk Circa 1969

In the depths of the Sixties and The Days Of Rage, a young newsman, accompanied by his pregnant wife and orphaned teenage brother, creates a Paradise of sorts in a sprawling Venice Beach community of apartments, populated by students, artists, budding scientists and engineers lifeguards, poets, bikers with  a few junkies thrown in for good measure. The inhabitants come to call the place “Pepperland,” after the Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” Threatening this paradise is  "The Blue Meanie,"  a crazy giant of a man so frightening that he eventually even scares himself. Here's where to buy the book. 

*****

STEN #1 NOW IN SPANISH! 

Diaspar Magazine - the best SF magazine in South America - is publishing the first novel in the Sten series in four 

episodes. Part One and Part Two appeared in back-to-back issues. And now Part Three has hit the virtual book stands.  Stay tuned, for the grand conclusion. Meanwhile, here are the links to the first three parts. Remember, it's free!

Link To Part One 

Link To Part Two

Link To Part Three